


When things suddenly make sense

by 1thousandminus7



Series: Ready or Not [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Fingering, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, lots of feelings, this is very sappy smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 09:28:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11033388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1thousandminus7/pseuds/1thousandminus7
Summary: He waited. He was good. He made sure he was ready, because Otabek was going to be worth it. He knew he was.And he supposed the time had about come to find out.





	When things suddenly make sense

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the sort of sequel to Ready or Not? Idk someone said they wanted porn so here have some porn. Also I've wanted to write their first time for some time now, so... Enjoy ^_^

Alright, this was getting ridiculous.

This was the third time in as many nights that Yuri was stood in the shower after waking up in a… compromising state. He could see his reflection in the bathroom mirror, hot water dripping down slim shoulders as he washed himself off. Though the reflection was clouded by condensation, he could see the outline of his body. He’d filled out in recent months, just a little, and had grown an inch or so in height, but he was still lithe and graceful. He ran his soapy hands over his skin and tried not to think of his dream.

_Fingers trailing down his chest, his stomach, his hips. Lips on his throat and a warm body pressed against his as that rough, slightly husky voice murmured compliments in his ear…_

He shook his head. Sure, this wasn’t the first time he’d had sex dreams, but it was the first time those dreams had been so vivid, the first time there had been a face to go with the touches. And it was there, closing his eyes and letting the fantasy wash over him as he stood under the hot water that he decided, maybe this meant he was ready.

 

He wanted to go all the way with Otabek.

 

He was going to stay the night again with him the following day, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity. Of course, the next issue was bringing it up. What were you supposed to do? Just… ask? _Beka, I want you to sleep with me._ Yuri groaned inwardly. No, there was no way he could just say it like that. There was no logical reason why he couldn’t, he supposed, but… he just couldn’t imagine looking him in the eye and _saying_ it like that. He’d just… go with it, and hope for the best.

 

He spent most of the following day trying to prepare himself, tidying himself up and spending long minutes just staring in the mirror wondering _what can I do to make myself more appealing?_ He spent what felt like hours attempting to clean up the hair between his legs. He didn’t shave, but he liked to keep it trimmed, and he was very careful to make it look as neat as possible. Then it was time to shower, and he was _very_ thorough with his washing, making sure he was as clean as he could be inside and out. Finally, he had to decide what to wear. And oh boy, he went through many outfits before he settled on a pair of distressed jeans and form-fitting tank, which he pulled a jacket over, forgoing his usual hoodie, and finished off with a loose scarf. It was casual enough, but he knew it made him look good. In the end, he decided to leave his hair down, having brushed it at least half a dozen times in an attempt to get it to look as neat as possible. He gave himself one last glance in the mirror before leaving, and took a deep breath. _Tonight’s the night._ He found himself fighting nerves the whole way there, and when the door opened and _there he was_ Yuri felt like it was their first date all over again.

“Yura.” Otabek’s eyes travelled up and down his body as he stood in the doorway, and he smiled. “You look… good.”

“Thanks.” Yuri tucked a strand of hair behind his ear and tried to stop the blush on his face. “Can I…?”

“Oh! Yes.” Otabek stepped aside to let him in, and closed the door behind them. Yuri cursed himself inwardly for the knot of nerves in his stomach. _It’s just Beka. You know Beka. You love him. This is no different from all the other times you’ve been here._ As distracted as he was, he didn’t notice immediately when Otabek approached him from behind, and he jumped a little as gentle hands unwound his scarf, and Otabek pressed a kiss to the side of his neck.

“Something on your mind?” He asked in a low voice. “You seem distracted.”

 _Yeah. You._ Yuri thought, though he didn’t say it out loud. “Not really. Just spaced out, I guess.”

“Mmm.” Otabek’s arms looped around his waist, pulling Yuri back against his chest. They were almost the same height now, and he felt Otabek’s teeth graze his earlobe playfully, making him shiver. “You’re going to be taller than me, soon.” He commented offhandedly.

“Damn right.” Yuri told him, smirking. “Then I’ll be the big spoon.”

“I was under the impression you liked being little spoon.” Otabek kissed his neck again, and Yuri had to force back memories of his dreams.

“I do, but I also like the idea of having you in my arms.”

“Now that I like to hear.” Otabek let go so he could take Yuri’s wrist and turn him around. Face to face, his hand found the small of Yuri’s back and pulled him close for a kiss. Yuri’s heart fluttered a little as he fell back into familiar territory, the soft warm swipe of Otabek’s tongue on his lip, the way his fingers curled against Yuri’s back as Yuri moulded into his touch, the perfect complement to his body. Breaking the kiss, they stayed like that a moment longer, Yuri’s arms around his neck and their faces close enough that Yuri could feel his warm breath on his damp lips. “You’re beautiful…” Otabek murmured, stealing another brief kiss.

“I know.” Yuri smirked, and then he stepped back. “Alright. What are we doing tonight then?”

 

The evening passed quickly. Otabek cooked for them again- a skill which Yuri was immensely grateful for; he didn’t think he’d ever be sick of Otabek’s cooking- and then they fell into their usual routine of playing video games until darkness fell. Yuri was a terrible backseat gamer, yelling at Otabek to do this that and the other as he played, insulting his gameplay and just generally being completely useless, but Otabek seemed to find it endearing. But eventually Yuri started to get distracted. He leaned in to kiss Otabek’s neck, and bit down as Otabek attempted to do something, deliberately throwing him off.

“Yura…” Otabek said in a low, warning tone. Yuri trailed his lips down Otabek’s jaw, peppering it with kisses.

“Yes…?” He asked, mock-innocent.

“You’re being distracting.”

Yuri pulled the collar of Otabek’s shirt aside so he could get to the unmarked skin of Otabek’s shoulder, kissing there too. “Am I?”

“You know you are.” Otabek paused the game so he could turn to Yuri, and rest a hand on Yuri’s cheek as he leaned in for a kiss. “You’re a dreadful tease…” He murmured against Yuri’s mouth, and Yuri laughed softly.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Otabek growled and pushed Yuri backwards so he lay back on the sofa, and then leaned over him, copying Yuri and trailing kisses and playful nips down the long line of Yuri’s throat. Yuri gasped each time he felt the sting of teeth, his arms around Otabek. The sensation was doing things to him; making his head feel light and sending little flashes of heat through him.

“See?” Otabek muttered. “Distracting.”

Yuri made a soft noise in the back of his throat. Whether it was a sound of complaint, protest or desire he wasn’t sure, but he pulled lightly on Otabek’s hair, getting him to come back up so he could kiss him properly. Then Otabek’s tongue was in his mouth, and their bodies were pressed together, and Yuri felt a familiar thrill prickle over his skin and settle in the pit of his stomach. He felt flushed with want, and he pushed himself up against Otabek in a way that had him gasping and pulling back.

“Yuri-”

“Sleep with me.” Yuri felt himself say, and then he drew in a sharp breath. He’d said it. He’d actually said it. He blushed horribly, and bit his lip, waiting for a response as embarrassment burnt his insides.

Otabek did pull back at that, so he could look Yuri in the eye. The expression on his face suggested he didn’t quite believe what he’d just heard. “You want me to-” Yuri nodded, not quite able to meet his eyes. “…Tonight?” There was a waver in Otabek’s voice that betrayed his excitement. Yuri nodded again, and his lips parted, not quite a gasp. “You’re sure?”

“Yes, Beka. I’m sure.” Yuri looked him in the eye, some of his confidence returning. Otabek let out a slow, slightly uneven breath, and his expression changed, quiet determination in his eyes.

“I see. In that case,” He sat up, and Yuri tried to stifle the sudden rush of excitement, anticipation, nerves and even slight panic as he watched Otabek save and switch off the game. _Fuck. I’m about to lose my virginity._

Then Otabek got up, and held out a hand, which Yuri took. Otabek pulled him up, and then led him through to the bedroom. He stared at the bed as Otabek shut the door behind them, reminded of the first time he’d tried to make a move on Otabek only to learn he wasn’t really ready at all. Except this time, he was. He knew it. When he felt Otabek’s hands on his hips he started, and pressed himself back against him.

“Yuri…” Otabek sighed, his breath warm on the side of Yuri’s neck as his hands traced the ridges of Yuri’s hipbones. “God, I’ve been waiting for this…” He kissed his skin, open mouth kisses that left wet patches in their wake. Yuri felt another shiver run through him, and he tilted his head to one side. “On the bed.” Otabek told him, and he complied, climbing on and making himself comfortable as Otabek followed, leaning over him. He kissed him, and there was passion in the kiss like Yuri hadn’t felt before, a sort of quiet desperation, a plea for more. He felt Otabek’s hand at the hem of his shirt, slipping underneath it to press against bare skin. His fingers felt cool against Yuri’s heated body, and Yuri let out a tiny gasp; the touch tickled, just a little. Otabek continued to pull it up, baring more and more of Yuri’s stomach and chest until he had to break the kiss to pull it over Yuri’s head. It got tossed aside, and Yuri felt his skin prickle as Otabek ran the flats of his palms over his exposed chest, as though committing the shape of him to memory. Before too long, his hands were replaced by his mouth, and Yuri closed his eyes as he trailed kisses over his body. When Otabek’s mouth found his nipple, and he traced it with the very tip of his tongue, Yuri made a soft noise of surprise, the sensation more intense than he’d expected it to be. It sent a wash of lust straight to his groin, and his fingers found the back of Otabek’s head as he drew little circles around the sensitive spot with his tongue, making him feel slightly lightheaded. He tugged at Otabek’s shirt, insistent.

“Off.”

Otabek got the message, and sat up so he could pull the offending article off. Yuri had seen him shirtless before, but he still managed to pull a gasp from him, and he pulled Otabek back down to kiss him again, pressing himself against Otabek and loving the feel of skin on skin. Otabek let out a soft sound of desire, and Yuri felt his hand run down his side. Then Otabek shifted so he was no longer on top of Yuri but rather lying by his side, giving him space to freely touch. And he took the chance, the hand that was on Yuri’s side moving over his hip, over the waistband of his jeans. Yuri gasped as Otabek’s fingers trailed down between his thighs, even the light pressure through the material sending a hot flash through him. He looked up at Otabek as he cupped Yuri through his jeans, his middle finger pressing down, rubbing against the seam.

“Is this okay?” He asked in a slightly husky voice, his eyes dark with lust. Yuri nodded, and bucked up against his hand just a little, giving him wordless permission. Otabek let out a shuddering breath and leaned down again, and Yuri felt his tongue against his pulse point as Otabek’s hand deftly unbuttoned his jeans and slipped beneath his waistband. Yuri stiffened at that first contact with where he was hot and hard in his jeans. Otabek’s fingertips felt cool as they drew a line down his length, the tightness of his underwear putting pressure on the touch. That alone had Yuri panting, open mouthed as he stared at the ceiling. It felt so different to his own touch; so much _more._ He arched his back, pressing himself up into Otabek’s hand and letting out a moan as Otabek rubbed his length, the feeling so much rawer than anything he could do to himself. Otabek looked up at him as he dipped his hand in further, the very tip of his middle finger brushing over the head of Yuri’s cock, pulling a wholly undignified sound from him.

“Good?”

“Y- _yes_ , God, Beka, I want- give me _more._ ”

Otabek hummed low in his throat, and helped Yuri out of his jeans and underwear. Yuri panted, completely exposed, a blush on his otherwise pale cheeks. Otabek was unashamedly taking his time looking over Yuri’s body, _all_ of his body, and it made Yuri feel slightly embarrassed.

“Quit staring…” He grumbled half-heartedly.

“Sorry, Yura, it’s just…” His hand trailed feather-light up the inside of Yuri’s thigh, encouraging him to spread his legs. “You’re beautiful.”

“Shut u- _uh_ …” Yuri started to say, but tailed off into a moan as Otabek’s hand wrapped around his length and his mind went blank. Otabek laughed, the sound gentle and teasing as he started to stroke Yuri slowly, making him pant and buck into his hand. “Beka, oh fuck, Beka…” He whined. The feeling was unlike anything he’d experienced before, a burning just below his navel that filled him with restless, wanting tension.

“How far do you want to go tonight, Yura?” Otabek asked quietly, running his thumb over Yuri’s slit and pulling a choked sound from him.

“All the way. Beka, I want you- I need you to _fuck me_...”

“You’re ready for that?” He asked, and Yuri could have screamed in frustration.

“ _Yes!_ Stop asking and just _do it!_ ” He thrust into Otabek’s hand as though making a point, his impatient nature rearing its head. Otabek leaned down to kiss him roughly, and then his hand was gone and Yuri bucked into thin air, a sound of pure need escaping him. Otabek broke the kiss and looked down, amusement mingling with lust in his expression.

“Impatient.”

“Shut up, Beka.” Yuri panted. Otabek laughed, and got up so he could undo his jeans. Yuri watched with awe as he stripped, and gasped as he stood before him naked. God, Beka was _impressive._

“Now who’s staring.” Otabek muttered with a light flush on his cheeks. Rather than respond, Yuri growled and reached for Otabek’s wrist, pulling him back down on top of him. This time when their bodies pressed together there was nothing between them, and Yuri could feel the heavy, heated hardness of Otabek’s cock against his hip, Otabek’s own thigh pressing between his legs and sending little jolts of pleasure through him every time he moved. He ground against Otabek’s leg, needing more, and felt the rough moan Otabek let out against his mouth as he pressed up against Otabek’s own desire. They broke apart and Otabek was panting, flushed.

“You want- you want me to top?” He asked, and Yuri nodded.

“Fuck me, Beka.” He noted the way Otabek closed his eyes and took a breath, like Yuri’s words had physically shocked him. Then Otabek reached over to his bedside drawer and pulled out a bottle and a familiar foil square. Yuri’s breath hitched as Otabek spread his thighs, exposing him to his attentions. He felt… very vulnerable, like this. And maybe a little self conscious.

“This is going to be strange, at first.” Otabek warned him, and Yuri heard the sound of the cap of the bottle popping off. “Talk to me. Tell me how it feels.” Then Yuri felt something cool and wet on his perineum, and he gasped.

“Cold…”

“It’ll warm up.” Otabek assured him, and kissed his thigh. His finger went further, and Yuri felt it skirt over his entrance. His breath hitched. Otabek kissed him again, and pressed a little harder, just the tip of his finger slipping into Yuri’s body. The first inch or so was nothing too unfamiliar, though being that it wasn’t his own finger working into him it did feel weird. After all, this wasn’t the first time he’d had something up there- he’d been _very_ thorough with his cleaning. It was the next little twist, the slip of the pad of Otabek’s finger against his insides that caught the breath in his lungs, and made him squirm.

“Oh…” He felt the involuntary contraction of his muscles around the digit as it slid further inside, and it sent a shock up his spine. It wasn’t a direct sort of pleasure like Otabek stroking his cock had been; it was more a shock of anticipation, of the pleasure that could be coming.

“How does that feel?” Otabek asked, and Yuri felt the press of knuckles against his ass. _His whole finger’s inside me._ Somehow it felt bigger than it was, and suddenly Yuri was apprehensive about the size of Otabek’s length. Would he be able to take it?

“Feels… weird…” He answered truthfully.

“Bad weird?”

“No…” Yuri shifted, frowning a little. “Just weird.”

“Hmm…” Otabek made a thoughtful sound, and Yuri felt his finger rubbing up against his insides. “Let me…” He curled it a little, and for a split second Yuri was taut as a bowstring, his body jerking to attention as Otabek did _something_ with it that made his thighs and back seize up.

“ _Beka-_ ” He choked, and looked down to see the soft smile on Otabek’s face.

“Feels good, huh?”

“Y-yeah…” He felt a tightness in his chest, and realised with a start that he wasn’t breathing. He panted a few times, a weak attempt at breathing normally, and Otabek, down between his thighs rubbed little circles into him that made his body feel just a little too tight, a little too hot. “How are you _doing_ that?” He gasped, making Otabek chuckle.

“You didn’t know about your prostate?”

“I… no?” His hips bucked involuntarily, causing Otabek’s finger to jab at the spot a little harder. He swore he saw stars, for maybe half a moment.

“Hm.” Otabek said again, but didn’t make any follow up comments. Instead, he withdrew his finger, making Yuri whine.

“Don’t _stop_.” He felt a slight burn in the absence of Otabek’s finger, a faint discomfort. Otabek tutted, a softly comforting sound, and kissed the crook of his thigh.

“Patience, Yura. One of these days I’ll make you come just from that, but today you said you wanted all of me, so that’s what I’m going to give you.”

“You can make me come just by _fingering_ me?” Yuri gasped, though with what he’d felt just moments ago, he could well believe it. Otabek laughed again.

“I like to think so. I suppose we shall see.” Then Yuri felt his finger back where it was, except, no, there were _two_ of them now, and when Otabek pushed them in it hurt.

“ _Beka_ …” He whined again, and when he heard his own voice he cringed inwardly. God, he sounded so _needy_.

“Talk to me.” Otabek reminded him in a gentle tone, his free hand scritching affectionately at Yuri’s thigh, like he was petting a cat.

“I- it- kinda hurts…” He drew in another breath, tight around Otabek’s fingers.

“Relax.” Otabek soothed, his nose pressing against Yuri’s leg, hot breath sending shivers through him. “It doesn’t last. The pain, I mean. You get used to it.” His tone was measured, soft but full of desire. Yuri didn’t think he’d ever heard Otabek talk like that, but it was doing _things_ to his insides, and he wondered if Otabek could feel each little twitch of his muscles around him the way he could.

“Move them.” Yuri demanded, his own voice weak and broken and not at all smooth.

“You’re sure?”

“ _Stop_ fucking _asking that_.” Yuri groaned, and pushed back against his hand. He felt the slight withdrawal of the fingers inside him, then the gentle slide back in, and he had to remember to breathe again. The lube was warmer now, no longer a shock to his sensitive insides, and if he closed his eyes he imagined he could feel every texture of Otabek’s fingers. His back arched, and the burn began to fade, leaving in its place an aching want. “Do the thing again.” He demanded, and heard the soft hum Otabek gave in response. He felt the digits inside him press against muscle, seeking that spot, and when they found it he tilted his head back and let a weak moan escape his throat. His fingers curled in the bedsheets, pulling at them as that pleasurable pressure built once more deep in the pit of his stomach. He looked down at Otabek, met the dark eyes watching his every reaction. He gave Yuri an almost-not-there smile, and pressed down hard. Yuri yelped, his cock twitching at the sudden burst of pleasure. Otabek’s fingers twisted inside him, and he felt a thumb press against his perineum. He pressed a hand over his mouth to stifle the high-pitched, needy sound that escaped him, and heard Otabek tutting again, this time in reprimanding. He scissored his fingers, stretching Yuri wider, and nipped at the soft skin of Yuri’s thigh, making him jolt.

“I want to hear you. Don’t cover your mouth.”

“But Beka, I sound so- so-” He made another sound, flushing. “So _whiny_.”

“I love that I can do that to you.” Otabek told him, his voice bordering on predatory. Yuri wetted his lips, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. He felt Otabek’s fingers move a little more insistently, a slick, hot slide inside him that felt as obscene as it sounded, and oh god he could _hear_ it and it made him blush.

“I want-” he gasped, and what _did_ he want? He wanted more, that’s what. He could feel it, the phantom suggestion of pleasure playing up his spine as those fingers thrust inside him. The anticipation was tangible, and it made the thick pooling of heat in his belly feel like it was on the verge of overflowing, if only he could get a little, a little _deeper…_ a little _more._

“Say it.” Otabek told him, and the heavy catch of lust in his voice was like a physical force, making his skin prickle with sweat. And suddenly it hit Yuri that that tone, that wild, almost _dangerously_ lustful tone that he’d never heard from Otabek before was because of _him._ The slight shudder in his breath, the way his tongue flicked out just enough to dampen dry lips, that was his doing. And he shivered, that knowledge almost as heady as the insistent press of fingers inside him.

“I want more, Beka. I want you to- I want _you._ ”

“Mmm.” Otabek purred, and then there was the gentle press of a third finger up beside the other two, and Yuri hissed as it pushed in, the cool slide dangerously close to being too much. Where one had been a tease, and two a stretch, three sent sparks up his spine. It hurt but it felt _good_ , the slow in-out motion Otabek was making feeling easy, almost natural. Yuri found himself moving with Otabek’s fingers, fucking himself on Otabek’s hand. “I think you’re ready…” Otabek murmured, his lips pressed against Yuri’s thigh, and Yuri made a breathy noise of assent. He wanted Otabek inside him, and he wanted it _now._ Even so, his body cried out in protest when those fingers slid out of him, the burn suddenly so much more noticeable.

“I- Beka, Beka _please_ …” He pleaded, his cock aching for attention. He reached down to touch himself, but Otabek took his wrist and moved it away.

“Wait for me.” His voice was rough, and he leaned over Yuri once more to kiss him again. The kiss lasted only a moment before Otabek sat back on his heels, and Yuri watched as he tore open the little foil packet, rolling the condom on and preparing himself for Yuri. He coated his palm with lube and stroked himself, and Yuri could hear the wet sounds, the soft breathy moans that escaped him. His eyes fluttered half closed as he pleasured himself, and there was a light flush on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose as he panted through obscenely damp lips. It sent a thrill straight to Yuri’s cock to watch him, and when he leaned back down there was hot breath on his mouth and hot skin on his. “Are you- are you ready?” Otabek asked, and Yuri could hear the strain in his voice. His beautiful, heady voice.

“ _Yes_.” Yuri breathed in response, and he felt the insistent nudge of hot hardness where he felt open and wet and _filthy_.

“Look at me…” Otabek demanded, his hand on Yuri’s cheek, making their eyes meet. “Talk to me. Tell me what you want.”

“ _Beka_ …” Yuri whined, his tone laced with complaint. “Just _do it._ ”

“Tell me. I want to hear you say it.” He spoke the words through his teeth, his expression taut with self control.

“Otabek Altin, I want you to _fuck me_ until I can’t _walk straight_.”

Otabek met Yuri’s eyes, and there was a brief moment of charged silence between them, in which Yuri could feel his lust like a tangible force. Yuri could feel his breaths coming short and shallow, the nervous desire suspended in the air as he shifted, ever so slightly, pushing back against Otabek.

Then Otabek smiled, a soft, barely-there smirk, and pushed in. Just the head, just enough to stretch Yuri, and even that felt so much- so much _more_ than his fingers had. Suddenly the apprehension that he might not be able to take Otabek was back in full force, and he frowned, his fingers finding and clutching Otabek’s shoulders. Otabek must have noted the change in his demeanour because he paused, minor concern flicking across his features.

“Yuri, are- are you…?”

“I’m _fine._ ” Yuri hissed, feeling full and empty and hot and shivery all at once.

“Is it- too much?”

“It’s- I feel-” Yuri heaved a breath through gritted teeth, “H _ah_ \- I can, I can take it. I’m Yuri-motherfucking- _Plisetsky_.” He grinned up at Otabek, his fingers tight against his shoulders. “And I _need_ you to _wreck me._ I want to feel- I want to be _weak_ because of you. Beka, I _need you_.”

Otabek regarded him a moment, and Yuri could feel the tension in his muscles as he held himself there, could almost see the strain. Then he nodded, leaning down so Yuri felt staccato breaths on his ear.

“You’re mine, Yura.”

Yuri could remember thinking, _yes, I’m yours, make me yours_ right before his mind stuttered to a halt because then Otabek was pushing into him and he felt so much more _full_ than he had with Otabek’s fingers and it was _delicious_.

“Beka, I, oh, oh fu- _uck-_ ” He cursed, his grip tightening, fingers curling. Through the haze of his brain he heard Otabek’s stifled hiss, and he looked up, registering the pained expression on his face.

“Yura… nails.” Yuri panted for a moment, then figured out what was wrong and loosened his grip. Otabek rolled his shoulders, and huffed a soft sigh.

“Did I- hurt you? I- _ah_ \- I’m sorry…”

“I don’t mind scratches…” Otabek told him, his chest heaving, “but you’re going to make me bleed if you keep that up.”

Yuri pictured that; the expanse of Otabek’s back littered with scratches- _like a cat’s,_ Yuri thought, and he felt a laugh bubble up from his gut. Otabek blinked, looking confused.

“…Yuri?”

“Cat scratches.” Yuri told him with a hitched giggle. “I’m a _Tiger_.”

He heard the soft _huff_ of air as Otabek half-laughed, and then felt the brush of lips on his. “My tiger.” Then he shifted again, another inch slipping in, and Yuri made a sound like something out of one of those dirty videos he’d watched. He buried his face in the crook of Otabek’s neck and panted, face flushed and hot. How could- how could Otabek make him sound like that? He sounded _filthy_.

“Let me- I want to see your face.” Otabek murmured in his ear. “Lay back.” Yuri tried to do that, to relax enough to rest his head on the pillow behind him and look up into Otabek’s face, but the next time Otabek moved his body tightened again, and he could feel the hard ridges of Otabek’s hipbones pressed into his thighs. “ _Relax_ , Yura. Trust me.”

Yuri nodded, breath whistling through his nose, shallow and not quite enough to stop the creeping lightheadedness. Otabek raised a hand, and he felt the soft brush of fingers on his temple, the sweep of hair being pushed aside. It tickled the side of his neck as it fell against the pillow.

“So beautiful…” Otabek leaned down, and their noses brushed just before their lips did, a soft, uncoordinated kiss that lasted only a moment. And Yuri felt his breath leave his chest all at once, the tension creeping from his chest and shoulders. His insides twitched, and he felt the empty ache, so he pushed back against Otabek, encouraging him to go a little deeper. Otabek’s breath shuddered, his damp lips grazing Yuri’s cheek and once again reminding him that _I did this I made him like this I’m the reason he’s so wound up right now_ , and then he obeyed, pulling out just a little before pushing back in more, working Yuri in a start-stop rhythm that gave him time to adjust, time to appreciate each tiny movement. And Yuri swore he could feel Otabek’s pulse as he moved, intimate in a way they never had been before and it felt so _good_ , not in the way he’d come to expect, in the insistent, impatient tug of pleasure that he could give to himself, not in the most basic physical sense, but instead in the trading of breath, the slide of heated skin and the closeness of it all.

When he felt the brush of hips against his ass he gasped, pressing himself into the contact. _That’s all of him. I’m taking all of him._ And when he shifted, and felt the response of muscles he’d never been aware of before, deep inside him, he let out a sharp laugh. “Beka, I’m- You’re-”

“I know.” Otabek breathed, and he laughed too, pushing a little harder so the pair of them could feel where they were joined together. “I’m- You’re good? It feels good?”

“It feels _amazing_.” He looked up, at Otabek’s dark eyes, at that rare, playful smile, and he was taken back for a moment to his exhibition. Otabek had worn that same expression then, and it had set Yuri’s nerves on fire then just the same as it did now. “More. I need- _yes_ -” He gasped as Otabek moved, the slick slide and hot pressure making him feel restless, pushing him to roll his hips to get _more,_ and he pulled Otabek down for a kiss, sliding his tongue against Otabek’s in a motion that was entirely uncoordinated, that was messy and clumsy and that felt _right_ , in the way their bodies slotted together at every possible angle. “Oh, oh _Beka_ …”

“Fuck, Yura, you’re so- you feel so _good_ …” Otabek moaned, and the sound was like rich chocolate. Yuri had never understood that before, the way people compare sounds to foods, but suddenly it made _sense_ now as he listened, let it seep into his blood and burn slowly inside him the way sweetness burns in the back of your throat. He drew back, pulling out only to push back in again in a way that threatened roughness, and Yuri made a choked sound, his cock twitching, hot and heavy as it rested against his lower belly. He felt so full, so achingly full and wet and he needed something, he needed that _edge_ to push him to where he wanted to be.

“Do the- Beka, do the thing-” He managed to stutter out, snapping his hips against Otabek and hoping he got what he meant. Otabek nodded, and suddenly there was a strong arm curled around his thigh, and his leg was being pushed back against his chest. That gave Otabek slightly more freedom of movement and the next time he rolled his hips in a long, languid motion Yuri felt felt fire up his spine and he threw back his head and moaned, the long lines of his throat exposed for Otabek to kiss and lavish attention on. “ _Yes_ , oh God Beka, _there_ , more, I can’t- I can’t-” He whined and panted and tried to push back, but the angle Otabek had him in meant he couldn’t do much of that, and instead he cried out. He felt simultaneously weightless and tied down by gravity, tense and open all at the same time. Heat came and went in hot flashes that left the surface of his sweat-slick skin feeling cold in their wake, except where Otabek was on him, his own skin burning hot. He wanted to move back, to do _anything_ , his fingers tangling in Otabek’s hair, messing up its perfect styling beyond recognition. Otabek thrust forward again, sharply, and hit that spot inside him with enough force to send pins and needles to his extremities. “O- _oh_ , how are you- what are you- it feels- _amazing_ …” He arched his back against Otabek, his breath coming in gunshot pants, too fast and too shallow. He clawed at Otabek’s back, his fingers slipping on skin damp with sweat. “Beka, I f-ffuck- _ah_ -” He was no longer coherent, the words falling from his lips before they could be fully formed and Otabek was there again and ag _ain_ and ag- _ain-_

“That- that’s good? That’s what you wanted?” Otabek panted, the little sigh-catch-huff of his breaths betraying the tension in his body. He sounded like he was struggling to cling to those last few remaining strands of control and _oh_ Yuri wanted him to let go, to just-

“Let me.” He heard himself say.

“What-?”

“Let me, I want to-” a low whine escaped his throat. “Let me ride you.”

“You-” Otabek started, and then he drew in a sharp breath and nodded. When he stuttered to a halt Yuri felt like he could cry, even though he’d been the one who’d requested it. Otabek pulled out, leaving him feeling horribly empty, and he rolled onto his back. “Come on, Yura, I need this…” He grabbed at Yuri’s wrist, pulling him so he straddled him, and Yuri could see his face flushed and his dark hair mussed against the pillow. He raised himself up on strong thighs taut with muscle from years of skating, his hand finding the base of Otabek’s cock and lining it up once more. When he sank down it pulled a long, low moan from the depths of Otabek’s throat, and Yuri could see the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed against a dry mouth. It was beautiful and sexy and so goddamn appealing that he swore it was the sight alone that pulled the slick, hot droplet of precome from him, despite the way that if he shifted just so, leaned half a degree back then o- _oh,_ there it was, that angle that sent his mind careening. He bit his lip and set the pace, and he was _riding_ Otabek like he’d dreamed of doing so many times. His thighs trembled, his cock ached and his blood sang as what had once been hitting his prostate with staccato rhythm was now dragging over it, a constant thrum of hot, heady pressure that made his body burn. He wanted to touch but at the same time there was something, something about this long, slow pull towards an edge he’d never experienced that he didn’t want to ruin.

“H _ah_ , Bek-aaah, I- you- I-” Otabek bucked up, hitting his prostate hard and he screamed, interrupted mid-thought. He pressed his palm flat against Otabek’s chest, felt the thrumming rhythm of his heartbeat beneath his hand as he tried desperately to form coherent thoughts, pushing him closer and closer to that edge. If he touched himself now, even the slightest brush of fingertips he’d be done, and he didn’t want to be done, he wanted this to last forever, he wanted to ride this sensation with Otabek for the rest of time.

“Yuri- Are you- are you close?” Otabek’s voice was quiet, tense.

“I think- _aah_ , I think so- I’m- I’ve never- can I come just from- from _this_?” He sounded disbelieving, his eyes wide as he continued to move with rapid, impatient snaps of his hips, his thighs spread wide to allow gravity to do most of the work for him. Otabek laughed, breathless.

“Yes- if you- You’re really there? You don’t even need to touch yourself?” Yuri swore he could _feel_ Otabek’s cock twitch inside him at that idea, the thick hot pulse against his heated skin, and he nodded, mouth open, unable to contain the rhythmic “ _Ah- ah- ah-_ ” that mirrored the pace of his movements. Otabek growled, a sound of pure animalistic need, and he met each and every one of Yuri’s movements with a thrust of his own, and the sound of skin against skin joined the litany of gasps and curses that fell from Yuri’s lips. Yuri’s cries were sharp, exultant. He could feel Otabek’s hands against his thighs, grip tight enough to threaten bruises, and he was torn between closing his eyes and letting the feeling overwhelm him until no conscious thought remained and watching Otabek’s face for every little expression, knowing that the flush that spread from his face down his chest and the rapid rhythm of his heart meant he was close too, close enough that maybe, maybe if he finished soon they could come together, lost in nothing but one another.

“Beka- Beka _oh_ , fucking fuck- _aah_ ,” He curled in on himself, just a little, his stomach feeling too tight to bear, too hot, too much, and when Otabek bucked up again, harsh pressure on the spot that drove him crazy, the tension snapped like a too-taut rubber band and he screamed. His hips jerked, every muscle in his body contracting, and he felt the hot splash of come on his chest. He sucked in a harsh breath as the tension came, went, came again and finally ebbed from his body, leaving him gasping in its wake like a man half drowned. His body seized up as Otabek continued to thrust into him, and somewhere in the depths of his lust-addled mind he knew he had to keep moving, even when his legs shook and threatened to no longer hold him up, and every little movement had his body twitching with involuntary spasms, too sensitive to touch. He heard his name on Otabek’s lips, once, twice, three times as his hips stuttered and finally he cried out too, and Yuri found himself lamenting the condom as he watched Otabek come undone beneath him. He leaned down, and when his lips met Otabek’s there was a hand in his hair and another on his back, and Otabek was kissing him like his life depended on it, the slick slide of tongue on tongue and the soft vibration of his moan all that mattered.

 _I love you_ , Yuri thought, and once his mind latched onto the thought he couldn’t let it go. _I love you, Otabek._

When they broke apart, they held eye contact for a moment, and then Yuri laughed. “We just had sex.”

Otabek’s lips curled, the corner of his mouth quirking up just enough to be noticeable. “Yeah, we did. Was it good for you? A good first time?”

“Are you kidding?” Yuri let out a shuddering sigh. “It was amazing. I’m definitely letting you do that to me again.”

“Good.” Otabek rolled the pair of them over so that once more, he was on top, and he pressed a kiss to Yuri’s forehead, where his hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. He pulled out, and Yuri shivered and protested the sensation. “One moment.” And then Otabek was gone, discarding the condom and finding a towel to wipe the sticky mess from Yuri’s and his chests. Once clean, he collapsed into bed beside Yuri once more, the mattress dipping under his weight and making Yuri roll against him. His hand trailed through the hair at Yuri’s temple, brushing the long strands away from his face. Yuri sighed, the touch pleasant as he curled up at Otabek’s side. This felt so easy, so natural. Why he’d been so nervous before, he didn’t know.

“Beka…” He murmured, his voice quiet, satisfied.

“Mmm?”

“Love you.”

He felt Otabek shift beside him, felt the warm press of lips against his forehead. “I love you too.”

That made some primitive, possessive thing in his chest curl up and purr happily, and he smiled against Otabek’s shoulder. _My Beka._


End file.
